Burn For You Adopted by Hearts In Strangeness
by JasperIsAManlyMan
Summary: Edward Cullen didn't expect to find love in Forks. He didn't expect to find it in Bella Swan, a girl who is no more human than he is. And, while he wasn't surprised to find that her scent burned his throat, he definately didn't expect to burn her, too.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or its characters. Stephenie Meyer does.

Bella's Point of View

With a hard lump in my throat and my jaw clenched tightly to keep the hot tears locked inside my eyes, I turned my back on my mother and boarded the plane to Seattle. I knew that Renee didn't understand why I had to leave – even after I sat down in my seat aboard the plane, I still could taste her confusion and hurt on the back of my tongue, like lemons and black licorice. I wanted to go back, to tearfully explain that my staying would only hurt her in the long run. I wanted to reveal the only secret I'd ever kept from my mother, tell her why I'd been so withdrawn for the past year, tell her why I'd become even more reclusive after the accident.

But another part of me wanted to go back for an entirely different reason. I wanted to feel the energy and emotion running like electric charges through her veins. I wanted to let my instincts go and pull the emotion right out of her, make her feel so intensely that her body was exhausted by the effort, take the energy emotions inspired and required and make it my own until Renee's heart didn't have the strength to beat, and her lungs couldn't find the energy to expand, and her brain lost its ability to send signals to her vital organs, and everything just shut down. It would kill her, of course, but this part of me didn't care about that. This part of me – the predator – just wanted to be satiated. This part of me didn't care who it killed – the woman sitting in front of me, whose sadness was like dark chocolate in my mouth; the teenager across the isle from me, whose fear tasted like coppery metal. Any of them would do.

Which was exactly why I _had_ to get out of Phoenix. So many people – so much fundamental energy fueling everyone from the smallest children to the oldest adults, thrumming in every single cell of every living person, so many rampant emotions, coating my tongue with flavor after flavor all day long – tiny tastes of the feast I'd forbidden myself to eat. It was a constant temptation, a never-ending war of hunger versus morals. It wearing my resistance down. If I didn't leave, who knew how long it would be until I snapped, and, when I did, who would I kill? My mother or Phil, her husband? A random stranger on the street? Someone in my class at school? I couldn't risk it. I needed to get away before I hurt someone..... again.

The face that had been haunting me for almost a year reappeared in my mind's eye. A harried looking face – painfully thin, with a pinched mouth; small, hectic, brown eyes; short, rumpled, dull brown hair. He looked harmless. But this face was so agonizing to look at – because I'd made sure that those eyes never opened again. I ground my teeth, clenched my hands into fists, and squeezed my eyes shut as the plane took off to keep myself from crying like I had every other time his face intruded on my consciousness. _I'm sorry_, I tried to tell him yet again, my nose and throat burning as my tears came closer to the surface. _It was an accident – I didn't know what I was, how to stop myself_. But, like always, his eyes remained impassive – I couldn't tell if he'd heard me or not.

I clenched my fists tighter. _She'd_ promised me that the dead faces went away after a while. _She'd_ sworn that, given time, the memories wouldn't hurt anymore. But, then again, why was I holding onto _her_ promises? _She_ was a liar and a murderer – I knew that. Was I so desperate to forgive myself that I would forget all the other lies _she'd_ told me and hang onto this one? No – the memories just faded for _her_ because she was used to killing. _She_ was cold. Besides, I was getting exactly what I deserved. And I didn't deserve to be forgiven. This torturous regret was my penance. I would endure it.

That – the memory of the man I'd killed – was another reason why I couldn't stand to be in Phoenix any longer. Everything was a reminder of what I'd done. But there were slightly less personal reasons for leaving Phoenix, as well. I'd been sixteen when I'd become..... what I was – it was still hard to even _think_ the word – and, even though my mom hadn't noticed that I had neither grown nor changed in any way in the year since I'd changed, I knew that I wouldn't be able to avoid detection for too long. I needed to move to Forks because, firstly, the town's population was much smaller than Phoenix's, which meant a less difficult struggle, and, secondly, because my dad, Charlie, hadn't seen me in a year. I might have a little time before he noticed that something about me was off – a little time before I had to disappear.

Which led me to my third reason for moving to Forks – lots of conveniently located woods to get "lost" in. It would be easy to take a walk one day and never come back. The rain would wash my scent away, and there were lots of animals in the forest that had the ability to eat a human girl. If I managed to vanish in the right place at the right time – early spring maybe, when the bears were coming out of hibernation – no one would look too hard. I was a city girl, after all – if they found my mutilated backpack with the remains of a packet of beef jerky nearby, they would assume that I'd made a dumb, city girl mistake, and would come to their own conclusions. The searches would stop soon after that, I was sure.

I knew that it would hurt Charlie and Renee. But it was necessary. More than necessary – it was better for them. Much better than finding out that their daughter is a monster. A killer.

After I arrived in Seattle, I had to take a much smaller plane to Port Angeles, which was a blessing and a curse – fewer humans, but closer proximity. I practically fled the confines of the small aircraft when it landed, only to run smack into Charlie, who had been standing at the arrival gate. "Oof," he huffed, his breath knocked out of him – I'd almost been running when I'd hit him. Charlie staggered back a step. "You all right, Bells?" he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders to steady me.

I noticed these things and responded automatically with one small corner of my mind. The majority of my concentration was focused on ignoring the caramel-tasting happiness, marshmallow-like excitement, the crème brûlée flavor of his love for me, and buzzing life that my father was emanating – the tastes that made me yearn for more, that made the ever-present burning in my mouth escalate until it felt like I'd tried to swallow a hot ember. My eagerness to get off the plane had distracted me – his emotions and energy had caught me off guard, making resistance ten times harder. Now I swallowed, my muscles tensing, as I tried my hardest to not kill my father. It was an intense struggle, as usual, and at first the two parts of me were evenly matched. But as soon as I gained the upper hand over my hunger, the fight became increasingly easier until I was able to manage a small smile at my dad.

Only a second had passed since I'd run into him, so my ever so slightly delayed reaction must have seemed like nothing more than tiredness, because Charlie picked up my bag for me and carried it to his car, the taste of his curiosity – honey – filling my mouth. "How have you been, Bells? It's been so long since I last saw you."

_How had I been?_ I'd been in near-constant pain because of the hunger I refused to acknowledge. I'd been filled with self-loathing most of the time because said hunger existed in the first place. I'd been angry at myself for endangering everyone I came in contact with. I'd been torn apart by guilt, shame, horror, and pain because I'd unwittingly killed an innocent person. "I've been fine," I answered.

"Good, good," Charlie said said. The curious, honeyish flavor of his emotions changed slightly, became more salty than sweet as he grew nervous. "Are..... are you sure, Bells? Renee's been saying that you've been having trouble ever since the accident and..... well, you know."

Oh, yeah. I knew. Ever since the accident and..... ever since the surgeon assigned to your case dropped dead for no apparent reason in your room. That was what everyone _thought_ had happened. But it was far from true. There most certainly _had_ been a reason for his death – me. My parents, of course, couldn't know that. The traumatic story was that I, the unconscious victim of a car crash, had woken up to find a dead doctor sprawled across me. That was what everyone believed. Everyone but me and one other. The two of us knew the truth, and knew that the truth could not be told to anyone else.

I took a deep breath, trying to banish the doctor's face from my mind. "I'm fine," I repeated softly, not looking my dad in the eye. I'd always been a bad liar, but I was starting to improve with practice.

Apparently I was improving more than I'd thought, because Charlie accepted that quickly enough, and I didn't detect any red bell pepper-tasting distrust coming from him. We kept to ourselves as we exited the airport and loaded my bags into the trunk of Charlie's police cruiser – my father is the Forks chief of police.

The drive to Charlie's small two-story house was equally silent, but when we pulled into the driveway, I was surprised enough by the ancient, faded red Chevy truck parked there that I spoke up. "Is someone here?" I asked. Was Charlie expecting visitors? He hadn't warned me.

"No," Charlie muttered gruffly. I frowned slightly, puzzled by the emotions I could now taste. Strawberries – Charlie was embarrassed by something? And salt – he was worried. But I understood when he continued. "That's your homecoming gift."

"Really?!" I gasped, looking at the old truck with new eyes. It was huge and solid, and for some unknown reason, I absolutely loved it. "Dad, you shouldn't have! I brought money....."

"I wanted to," Charlie countered. "Besides," he added, a grin spreading across his face and the amused taste of pineapple filling my mouth, "I didn't think that you'd want to be driven around in the cruiser while you were looking for a car."

I had to laugh. Charlie may not have seen me in a while, but he knew me well. "Thank you, Dad," I said warmly. "I love it."

Charlie blushed, the faint taste of strawberry-embarrassment returning, but overpowered by the caramel-happiness he felt. "You're welcome, Bells," he said, and climbed out of the car.

I did the same, and walked around to the truck to grab one of my bags. I followed my dad inside the house and up the stairs to my room, where Charlie left me alone to unpack. I was grateful – I needed to be alone for a while.

I sat down on my bed and looked around my room. It was very familiar. The sky blue walls, light wooden floor, and the yellowed lace curtains over the window were all the same, as was the old rocking chair in the corner. I flopped onto my back, staring at the peaked ceiling above me, letting my thoughts wander. It was already easier here, I could tell – the closest neighbors were over a mile away, far enough that I couldn't sense them. Except for Charlie, who was watching a baseball game downstairs, there were no temptations. The relief was amazing – my mouth had been burning painfully for almost a year straight. To have that pain eased by such a token amount was heavenly. It wasn't _gone_, but it was much easier to bear.

_But it's going to come back tomorrow_, I remembered with a grimace. Because tomorrow I would have to leave the seclusion of Charlie's house, and go to school. Forks High, small-town school extraordinare. Only three hundred students from ninth grade to twelfth. This was a mixed blessing – there would be fewer people, and therefore it would be less of a challenge to keep from killing them. However, with such a small student body, I would be unable to fade into the background like I had in Phoenix. People would notice me, talk to me, try be my friends. Any mistake that I made would be magnified and talked about. If the mistake was too glaring, then everyone would know that there was something wrong with me, and I would have to disappear that much sooner – which would still not completely solve the problem, because I'd leave rumors behind me. I would have to be careful – but then again, I would always have to be careful. I'd better get used to it.

Charlie ordered pizza, and called me downstairs when it arrived. I trotted down the stairs, my mind already wrestling with the problem that food presented. For the first few months after I'd changed, I hadn't needed to eat at all. It just wasn't necessary – my body hadn't wearied, I hadn't lost weight, and my stomach hadn't growled. I'd had to fake eating, of course – one can only say "I'm not hungry" so many times – but after four months, as I was sitting in my Algebra II class, I'd started to experience the gnawing sensation in my stomach that had been absent for four months. My stomach had rumbled. I was _starving_. I'd eaten a huge lunch that day, and the then-foreign sensation of being hungry had passed, and had stayed gone for weeks. But then I'd gotten hungry again. The intervals between meals had progressively shortened, and now I needed to eat about two times a week.

Why was that happening? _She_ hadn't eaten food in over twenty years, and was fine. Was I somehow different that _she_ was? Was I weaker because I was new? Or was I _becoming_ weak because I refused to feed? Would I continue declining until I died? _Could_ I die like that – starvation? _She_ would know the answers – but I almost thought that I would rather die than ask _her_, and I had no idea where she was, anyway.

I shook my head slightly as if that would knock the questions out of my mind. It didn't, but I sat down at the table with Charlie and ate anyway – today I was a little hungry. Two slices of pizza later, I went upstairs to take a shower. I wanted to wash the airport-smell out of my hair.

My taste in shampoo was another little thing that my change had, well, changed. Before, when I'd still been a human, I'd preferred strawberry-scented shampoo. But after I'd changed, that stopped appealing to me – because now I could taste the emotions of those around me, and humiliation or embarrassment tasted like strawberries. I would go about my day feeling like I had a cloud of embarrassment hanging over my head. It made me even more awkward than usual. I stopped liking the smell – after all, it signified something bad now. So I'd thrown away all my shampoo and bought a different product – something that smelled like caramel, which now represented happiness to me. Ever since then, I'd tried to buy sweet-smelling shampoos – honey, caramel, vanilla, things like that – because usually the emotions that go with those smells are innocent and nice; things that don't distract me or bring me down.

I really needed to be happy right now. So I rubbed my caramel-scented shampoo thoroughly through my long brown hair, breathing deeply and thinking positively. I _would_ have a good day at school tomorrow. I would _not_ suck the life out of my classmates. Happy thoughts. I even managed to convince myself. I was actually smiling as I slipped into my room after I'd finished showering.

"Hey, Sweetheart," a female voice said brightly and mockingly from the corner.

I froze. My good feeling vanished, replaced by the sensation that something cold was crawling up my spine. I swallowed hard, and turned slowly to glare toward the old rocking chair in the corner of my room, and the woman sitting in it.

At first glance, no one would find her threatening. She was African American, with eyes so dark they were almost black, a pretty nose, full lips, and generous curves. At first – and even second – glance, she was beautiful. But if, on the third glance, you happened to look into her eyes, you could see the predator. And this was not just any predator that hunted its prey down. This predator made you _want_ to be hunted. This predator made you _want_ to walk toward her, made you _want _to die to feed her. This was what I was trying desperately not to become.

"You," I whispered flatly, my fury curling into a ball inside my chest – Charlie was still downstairs.

Her eyebrows rose. "'You'?" she repeated mildly. "Is that all I get? You know my name – why don't you say it?" I glared at her stonily and didn't respond. She sighed deeply. "Still mad, are we?" she asked condescendingly. "I thought we'd gotten over this."

My lips curled over my teeth in a silent snarl. "We'll never get over this," I hissed.

Her mouth hardened – I was getting to her now. I could taste her anger and frustration – a disgusting combination of ashes and onions. "I can't believe we're having this conversation again. _I saved you life!_"

It took all of my self-control to keep from screaming at her. "You made me a _monster_," I accused fiercely.

"You were _dying!_" she protested softly yet heatedly.

I took a step forward, my hands balling into tight fists. "You should have _let_ me," I snarled.

She threw her hands into the air. "_Enough_ of this!" she snapped. "I don't want to go in circles with you about this _again_. That's not why I came."

I forced myself to relax. If she wasn't going to try to persuade me to be like the rest of our kind, I could at least be somewhat civil. "Then why _did_ you come?"

She grinned, at ease again. "I came because, like it or not, you _are_ a -"

"Don't say it," I cut her off. I hated to hear the word.

She glared exasperatedly at me. "Fine. As I was saying, you are what you are, and I made you that way. That makes you _my_ responsibility for at least a year, and we still have a few months left until you reach your first birthday of sorts." She smirked. "I have to make sure that, when you come to your senses, you don't leave behind a trail of pretty, dead boys and make everyone suspicious."

I clenched my jaw. Just _thinking_ about doing what she described was making my stomach heave. "That won't happen," I ground out.

She shrugged, that infuriating smirk still in place. "Maybe, maybe not," she replied lightly. "Either way, remember – I'll be watching." And she slipped out my window, which she had left open.

It was a few minutes before I could make my fury-rigid body move. Then I stalked over to the window and closed it, and collapsed face-first onto my bed. She was going to be here, watching me like a freaking stalker. _Perfect_, I thought sarcastically, growling into my pillow. That would _definitely_ help me keep my cool.

It got later into the night, and Charlie went to bed. I didn't sleep – I hadn't slept since _she'd_ changed me. I _had_ been planning on using the time I didn't spend sleeping to explore the forest, looking for a place to disappear. But now that I knew that _she_ was out there in the night, I didn't feel like leaving my room.

So I rolled over, stared at the ceiling and let my thoughts churn around in my head until the sky turned light. When that happened, I glanced at my clock and sat up, leaving a Bella-shaped depression in my mattress – I hadn't moved once all night.

It was time for school.

**A/N: Okay, three things I would like to tell you. **

**First: Thanks for reading my story! You're all awesome. **

**Second: I do **_**not**_** like the title for this story, but I couldn't think of anything better – I totally drew a blank. So anyone with a good idea for the title, review or send me a message and tell me what you think the story should be called (And maybe why you think it should be called that, if you feel like typing. But you don't have to). I need help here, people! Please? **

**Third: Anyone know what Bella is??? I'll tell you in the next chapter, but I'm curious to see what you thought. Just in case I didn't communicate it well enough, I'll tell you right now, she is **_**not**_** a vampire with a talent like Jasper's. However, I'll give you this – her kind **_**are**_** mentioned in the Twilight Series. I'm not going to tell you which book, though, because that would possibly make it too obvious. Have a great day! **

**Sincerely, **

**JasperIsAManlyMan**


	2. The Other Predator

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. You all know who does.

Bella's Point of View

I kept it simple – jeans and a T-shirt. I didn't want to stand out or call unnecessary attention to myself. I would be in the spotlight enough as it was. I'd heard Charlie leave for work while I'd been getting dressed, so the empty kitchen didn't surprise me. In fact, I was glad that I was alone – there was no one to look at me weirdly as I completed my morning ritual. It was kind of stupid, but the day was always harder if I didn't do it.

I sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and went completely still. I made my mind go blank, and started to breathe slowly and deeply. Inhale to the count of seven, hold the breath to the count of four, and exhale to the count of seven. My heartbeat slowed as my body relaxed.

Having relaxed both my body and my mind, I imagined invisible barriers around myself – walls that no one could enter, and, perhaps more importantly, walls that _I _was not allowed to pass. This accomplished two goals – the predator inside me was somewhat contained, and the humans around me were unable to reach it. It was all in my head, but I'd gotten good at convincing myself that the barriers were real, and that somehow made the difference.

That done, I sighed and opened my eyes. Now that I was so relaxed, I was reluctant to move, but a glance at the clock told me that if I didn't get going soon, I would be late. So I got to my feet and walked out into the Washington chill to my truck. Before I'd changed, the cold had been the bane of my existence. I'd hated it, and had grumbled whenever the custody situation had made me stay in Forks. But now, while I could feel the bite in the air, I could have stood outside in a tank-top and shorts and not been uncomfortable. The jacket and sweater I wore now were props. I was a predator, after all – I was too strong to get cold.

The truck ran started easily if loudly, and didn't seem to have trouble with the drive to the school. I winced as I reentered civilization and my mouth started to burn again. The emotions spread across my tongue – peppery irritation, onion frustration, garlic impatience; all the usual cheery, morning feelings. But there was also a flip side to the negative – caramel happiness, crème brûlée love, vanilla peacefulness. I tried to ignore the bad ones and focus on the good as best I could.

I could taste the school long before I could see it. Peppy marshmallow excitement, club soda insecurity, sugary attraction, cinnamon desire, and black licorice angst. High school. I shuddered. Well, even if the feelings themselves weren't different from my school in Phoenix, at least there were less people to feel them. The quantity if not the quality was better. I set my mouth with grim determination as I drove into the parking lot.

As soon as the students gathered in the parking lot saw me, their honey curiosity blossomed across my tongue, wiping away the tastes of all the other emotions. I winced and pulled my hood up as I walked to the front office to get my schedule. They weren't going to leave me alone today. The secretary, who identified herself as Ms. Cope, gave me a list of my classes and a map of the school. "But if you still get lost, dear," she added as I gathered the papers and prepared to leave, "I'm sure there will be plenty of people willing to help you out."

"Probably," I agreed glumly, and walked out the door, ignoring Ms. Cope's lemony confusion behind me.

My first class was English with Mr. Mason. I went straight for a seat in the back of the room and sat down, leaving my jacket on and the hood up. If anyone asked me about that, I had a good excuse – I was from Arizona, and unused to the cold. But I really just didn't want to deal with people staring. The classroom filled up around me as chattering teenagers took their seats. I kept my head down, but I didn't need to be looking at them to feel their stares. Nor did I need eye contact to hear their whispers, which were loud to my predator's ears.

"Is that -" a boy breathed.

"Isabella Swan – Charlie's daughter," one girl whispered.

"She's from Arizona, right?" the same boy murmured.

"Why the sudden curiosity, Mike?" another boy teased. "You seem _really_ interested."

"She's new," the first boy – Mike – said defensively. "I'm just wondering."

"Uh huh," the second boy muttered sarcastically.

They stopped talking then, as Mr. Mason began his lecture on _Silas Marner_, a book that I'd already read. If the boy named Mike hadn't presented me with a new problem, I would have been bored out of my mind. But as it was, I could taste Mike's emotions, sliding like a sugar cube across my tongue. Sugar – attraction. Mike, who ever he was – I hadn't looked up to catch a glimpse of his face – was attracted to me.

And, now that I was looking for the flavor of that particular emotion, I could detect it from at least two other boys in the room.

I gritted my teeth. This was not going to help things. It would be very difficult to protect those boys from myself if they continuously hovered around me. And the emotions that tasted so sweet were always the hardest to resist. The people at my school in Phoenix had disliked me, thought I was a freak. Their emotions tasted bad, and the struggle was just barely easier because of that. But the sweet, delectable, mouthwatering tastes of Mike's and others' emotions would be much harder to resist. I'd have to find a way to deter them.....

I made it to the end of class without looking up at the eyes I could feel staring at me, but when the bell rang, they came to me. No, that's the wrong word. They _swarmed_.

Mike and another boy with jet black hair were first to speak as I gathered my books and stuffed them into my backpack. "Hey," Mike said, his voice bright and cheery. "I'm Mike."

Maybe if I said as little as possible they would get the message. "Hi."

Mike kept talking. "You're Isabella, right?" As if he didn't already know.

"Bella," I corrected, shouldering my backpack. I'd let just a hint of impatience seep into my tone. If they thought I was rude, they might leave me alone, too.

But apparently Mike and the other boy were a little dense, because they didn't seem to notice, and I didn't taste any irritation or anger coming from them. "That's a pretty name," the black-haired boy said. His voice cracked twice. "My name's Eric."

I smiled wanly. "Nice to meet you, Eric, Mike," I said, making myself sound like I was annoyed but trying to hide it. I was getting tired of this subterfuge – I wanted to look them in the eyes and say _Please leave me alone or I might kill you by accident_. But that wasn't really an option, so subterfuge it was.

"What class do you have next?" Eric asked eagerly. His hope would have been obvious even if I hadn't been able to taste the pears that always accompanied the emotion.

I knew the answer – I'd memorized the schedule before English – but I needed to act aloof, as though I couldn't care less about this school and the people in it. I needed to pretend to be a person that I didn't like – stuck-up, disdainful, condescending, and slightly mean. I hated it, but..... it was this or kill them. So I sighed and dug my schedule out of my backpack, exaggerating every movement. "Umm, Government, with Jefferson, in building six," I pretended to read, shifting my weight onto my right hip and making my voice bored. Shifting was an act, too – such changes in posture were no longer needed to make myself comfortable. But if I held too still, people noticed.

Eric's eyes lit up, and his caramel-happiness filled my mouth. I almost groaned. Mike, on the other hand, filled my mouth with the tangy-sweet taste of plums. "Well, Mike has art, which is in the opposite direction, but my next class is close to there. I'll show you the way!" Eric cried.

I held up the school map that Ms. Cope had given me. If I were being myself, I would have dropped the subject and just let him walk with me. But I had a role to play, and that role was a girl from a big city who didn't want to be around overly excited small town people. I was really starting to hate the Bella Swan I had to pretend to be. "I've got a map – I'll probably be all right," I hinted.

My implications sailed right over Eric's head. "No, no, it's no problem," he insisted, his smile ridiculously wide, and walked out of the classroom before I could argue further. I had no choice but to follow, which I did with a quiet sigh.

Eric and three other people – Ruth, Sarah, and Daniel – ended up walking me to the door of the classroom, keeping up a constant stream of questions along the way. I answered them as briefly as I could. Sarah, Daniel, and Ruth seemed to understand after a while that I wasn't much of a talker, and only asked a few more things, but Eric was incorrigible. I was starting to get annoyed – was he stupid? How many hints would I have to drop before he realize that I wasn't interested?

Government was a brief reprieve, and when class ended I darted out of the room before anyone could get to me.

Trigonometry was next, and this time the teacher – Mr. Varner – made me stand up and introduce myself. I never looked up from my water-proof boots.

I always avoided making eye contact with anyone, even my parents. It was for me to resist if I looked a person in the eyes, where so much emotion was visible – harder than just tasting them. But worse than that was the Draw my eyes emanated. That was my weapon as a predator, and most humans couldn't fight it. The Draw, what my kind used to hunt. It was hypnotic, and is used to break down any inhibitions a human might have, and make them trust us – make them _like_ us. It muddles their thoughts until they can't think about anything except how beautiful we are, how much they want to follow us and do whatever we wanted them to..... sometimes the humans didn't come to their senses before they died, and they would slip away still believing that the monster that had killed them was good. I my abilities weren't firmly in control, just meeting someone's gaze for a second could confuse them, and while I was _usually_ in control, I didn't like to risk it.

After Trig was Spanish, and after Spanish was lunch. I sat next to Eric, Mike, and three girls that I had met throughout my day named Jessica, Angela, and Lauren. Angela was very kind and shy, and I couldn't bear to act mean to her, but my conscience wasn't as troubled with Jessica and Lauren. Lauren made no secret of her dislike for me, and while Jessica acted nice, her emotions betrayed her – lima bean dislike, avocado jealously, and peppery annoyance. She was just riding the wave of my unexplainable popularity.

After lunch – which I only pretended to eat – I had Biology. Mike and Angela had that class with me, so we went together, Mike chattering the whole way. Angela kept quiet, for which I was extremely grateful. Even after I'd sat down in the desk the teacher, Mr. Banner, indicated, Mike stood by me, still talking about how he'd been raised in California, about the sporting-goods store his parents owned, about sports.

I was looking steadily at the desk, desperately thinking of a way to get him to _leave me alone_, when a quiet, male, musical voice spoke. "Excuse me, Mike," the voice said, and it was so beautiful that it snapped me out of my distracted, scattered state.

I wish to God that it hadn't. Because as soon as I was no longer distracted, as soon as my mind snapped back to the present, I was made aware of the energy that thrummed through his body, more than I'd ever felt in a million humans combined, practically radiating off his skin, crackling in the air around him. Mike must have been annoying me more than I'd realized – how else had I _missed_ the sensation of this boy approaching? So much energy, so close to me..... it was impossible to resist. It shredded through my feeble walls and my weak control. I was no longer the monster trying to be good that I'd been an instant ago, nowhere near the human I'd once been. I could taste the boredom and slight curiosity he felt – rice with just the barest tint of honey. I smiled viciously. So he was bored, was he? That wouldn't last long. I would _make _him feel things he'd _never_ imagined before.

I was a predator that had not hunted in almost a year. This boy whose name I didn't even know was my prey.

I was a succubus, and this boy had a bottomless supply of energy.

As soon as I'd become aware of him, the fire in my mouth had ratcheted up to an unprecedented level of burning pain – first in my lips, which felt like I'd kissed a white-hot poker, then in my mouth and throat, like I'd tried to swallow said white-hot poker. And then, the burn of the terrible hunger, spreading through my veins, my arteries, my capillaries..... until it felt like every inch of me was on fire. A fire that could be quenched easily by the colossal amount of energy stored in the body of the boy who was just sitting down next to me. All I would have to do was look up, into his eyes, and make him forget where he was, who he was – everything except the fact that, right now, he wanted to kiss me more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his life – that he _needed_ to kiss me. And then, once that easy part was out of the way, once the connection between our minds and bodies had been established, I would will his every ounce of life into myself, pull it from him and absorb it. It might not even kill him – I could detect no limit, no end to the energy I could feel. I had the feeling that I could feed off him for days and not hurt him in the slightest.

Not even a second had passed since he'd arrived. He sat down beside me – in what I assumed was his assigned seat, and I heard him turn to face me. He couldn't see my face – I'd shifted my hair over my shoulder to hide my face from Mike, and this new boy would be just as blind to my expression, which was surely one of primal, immense hunger. I was just about to turn to him and wipe all thought from his mind. I tensed, my head beginning to turn. He took a breath to speak.

And everything changed drastically again in another instant. Before he'd taken a whole breath, before he'd pulled more than a _fraction _of a breath in, he froze, too. The rice and honey tastes of his bored curiosity vanished, and the new play of flavors across my tongue shocked me enough to bring me back to my senses. I locked my muscles into place, desperately clinging to my reason like it was a rock, and I was drowning in the ocean. The control was like a thin sheet of glass, ready to shatter at any moment, but it was there

His emotions passed quickly, changing from one to the other so fast that I could hardly register them. Shock, like maraschino cherries, came first. Then the cinnamon desire, the raw _want_ that he threw off – stronger than anything I'd ever felt. It hit me like a physical blow, almost knocking me off my chair. But this tasted darker than Mike's desire for my body – this was like my hunger. The realization struck me – this boy was a predator, too. And I made him as hungry as he was making me. Just as he was my prey, I was _his_ prey. If both of us snapped, each trying to feed off the other, who would win? After his want came the desperation – he, like me, didn't want to succumb to his hunger – that tasted like burnt plastic. And then the _hate_, like acid in my mouth. Oh, he _hated_ me with a passion as strong as my hatred for _her_. Then anger – no, _fury_ – coating my tongue like ashes; oddly fitting, considering the burning in my mouth. He despised me almost as much as he wanted to hunt me.

And I found that I was hardly fond of him, either. Who _was_ this boy? What right did he have to make me burn like this, to tempt me so badly, to make me clench my hands until my fingernails almost cut into my palms, to make me clench my teeth so hard my jaw hurt? _What had he done to me?!_ I'd been _fine_ until he'd come! _Why?_ Why now, why me? I could feel my control slipping. Why did he have to make me so hungry? Why did he have to call to the predator inside me? Even now I could feel it shaking off the bonds I'd hastily put around it, coming closer to the surface. It would break free soon. _Why was he going to make me kill him?!_ I didn't _want_ to kill him! I didn't _want_ to be a monster!

I locked my every muscle in place. I wouldn't do it. I _wouldn't_. He couldn't make me. I beat back my hunger furiously. I clung to my self-control with everything I was – with my hatred for _her_, my desire to be nothing like _her_, my fervent wish that _she_ had never made me what I was, my love for my mom, my love for my dad – everything. And I found that I could keep my control – barely. I could last until the bell rang. Just one hour. I could do it – I _would_ do it.

The minutes passed slowly, agonizingly, as though someone were pushing bamboo slivers under my nails with every tick of the clock. I never relaxed. I never looked up. I never glanced through my hair to see who the boy was. If I happened to glance at him at the exact time he glanced at me – and I could feel his eyes on me from time to time – if I met his eyes, saw his energy and emotion there, it would be all over. I didn't hear a word of Mr. Banner's lecture.

The stream of powerful emotions coming from the boy never ceased. They all stayed, fluctuating occasionally on my tongue as he felt one more strongly than the others. The acidic hate, the ashy anger, the burnt plastic desperation, the cinnamon desire, the vinegar determination, the garlic impatience, and the peppery irritation.

He was, I noticed, feeling almost the exact things I was feeling. Of course, our situations weren't that different, but still, it surprised me. I thought about it more than strictly necessary – I as grasping at details to distract myself from the boundless energy I could still feel in him. I could only imagine how it would feel to press my mouth to his and pull it into myself, feeling it rush through me, feeling the tingle, the rush, the adrenaline, the _satisfaction_ – _NO!_ I stopped myself fiercely. That was not the way to keep myself in check.

_RRRIIINNNGGG!_ Oh, thank God. I was about to stand, to rush out of there like a bat fleeing hell, but the boy was faster than me – before I could raise my head, he was out the door. I only caught a glimpse of a tall, slender frame and bronze hair before he disappeared down the hall.

I unlocked my rigid muscles and darted away before Mike could catch me – I had no control left. The boy had used it up. I was too dangerous right then to even _risk_ going to Gym, my next class, so I pulled my hood up, hiding my face, and walked too fast out of the school, through the parking lot, and into the forest that bordered the asphalt.

Once I was in the cover of the trees, I started to run – to really run, so fast that no human could have ever caught me, supernaturally fast – until I was far enough away from the school that I could no longer feel the pull of the boy's incredible energy. Then I collapsed to my knees on the forest floor, breathing hard and trembling, trying to forget what that boy made me want to do. I staggered upright and lurched over to a nearby fallen tree which I sat down on, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs as if to ward off the cold.

I took a deep, shaky breath, and was about to burst into uncontrollable tears.

But then a wry, amused voice spoke behind me, making me – tense and on-edge – jump a foot into the air. "Well," _she_ said lightly, "_That_ was interesting."

**A/N: So now you know what she is! A succubus, which is mentioned in Breaking Dawn – in **_**two**_** places, actually. First at the bottom of page 125: "No, honey, I'm not having an affair! That sexy woman you saw sneaking out of the house was an evil succubus. I'm lucky I escaped with my life!" And then again in the middle of page 179: "They're out there, the sadistic ones, the incubus, the succubus. They exist." And I know that in both places Edward and Bella are talking about vampires, but when I first got Breaking Dawn and I read that, I thought, "Hmmm.... what if?" I mean, incubi and succubi are mentioned in legends almost as often as vampires and werewolves, and **_**they**_** turned out to be real. What if something like that existed – not just vampires who seduced humans, like Tanya's coven, but beings who actually fed off human energy? It made sense to me. No smoke without fire, I thought. **

**I can only think of two things that I'm making different about succubi in this story. **

**They aren't spirits or demons like they are in legends. They were humans who got changed into something else, like vampires.**

**Succubi in legends had to sleep with their victims to draw their energy out. In this story, a kiss will work – they just need a connection to their victim's body. **

**That was a really long A/N. Sorry. Please keep sending me suggestions for a good title for the story, 'cause I've still got nothing. Thank you! **

**JasperIsAManlyMan **


	3. Choices

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, as you all know. Stephenie Meyer does.

Bella's Point of View

After I almost jumped out of my skin, I whirled to face her where she leaned casually against the trunk of a tree, her dark eyes wide and innocent.

I snarled. "You again?" I wasn't really surprised – just ticked off.

She scowled back at me, her own temper springing to the surface. "I swear, Bella," she growled, "If you call me 'you' one more time, I'm going to hurt you. My name is Ashanti. Say it with me – _Ah_-_shan_-_ti_," she repeated slowly, accenting every syllable.

I just looked at her, refusing to dignify that with a response.

Ashanti growled furiously, gripping her hair in her hands as though she was going to pull it out by the roots. "You are the most stubborn girl I've ever met!" she declared. But then, to my shock, grudging respect entered her eyes. "Although, as much as that annoys me, I suppose that's why you were able to keep from attacking that poor fellow in class." She tisked mockingly, shaking her head. "That was the closest call I've ever seen. I though that I was going to have to come in and rescue you."

I bared my teeth. "_I don't need rescuing!_" I hissed. Ashanti pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, which only angered me further. "I was fine!" I insisted, imagining what backhanding her into the nearest tree would sound like.

Ashanti gave up on repressing her mirth then, and threw her head back and laughed. "Fine?!" she gasped, "_Fine_, she says! Oh, that's _rich_."

An animal shriek of fury tore from my throat and I almost lunged at her right then, but Ashanti held her hands up apologetically. "I don't blame you," she soothed me as her laughter died out. "If I had been in your place and hadn't fed in almost a year....." she trailed off, frowning. The surprised respect returned to her expression. "You must be stronger than I thought," she acknowledged slowly, and I was so shocked by the compliment that I almost missed her next words. "After all, vampires have so much more energy than humans – they're so much harder to resist."

At first I thought I'd heard her wrong, which seemed unlikely, given my perfect hearing. But when her words kept echoing in my mind and I realized that she had indeed said _vampires_, my jaw dropped. "There's no such thing as vampires," I objected automatically, without even thinking about how stupid the words sounded coming from me – something just as mystical as a vampire.

Ashanti noticed, and cocked a cool, mocking eyebrow. "So says the succubus," she pointed out. "Is it really logical to disbelieve the existence of vampires when you yourself are something out of a story book?"

I blushed, and changed the subject slightly. "You never told me that vampires were real."

"I _would_ have," Ashanti snapped. "But if I recall correctly, you never gave me a chance. Every time I tried to teach you about the supernatural world, you started screaming for me to get out and throwing things at me."

I blushed again – she _did_ recall correctly. But I wasn't sorry. Not after what she'd done to me. "Why was he so....." I trailed off, not wanting to use the adjectives running through my head – they were too predatory.

"Tempting?" Ashanti supplied. "Delectable? Because we hunger for energy – you know that – and vampires never tire, never run _out_ of energy." Her eyes darkened with hunger as she spoke. "It's all _right there_, just under their skin, _waiting_ to be accessed. They are the ultimate prey, the pinnacle of everything we want." A dangerous grin spread across her face, almost making me shudder. "And they're quite fun to hunt, if I do say so myself. But if you rethink this ridiculous restraint and decide to go after him, be careful – the Draw works on them, and we can muddle their thoughts, but their minds are stronger than humans', and they can shake off the delirium. If they come to their senses and realize that you're feeding off them, they're strong enough to fight you off and kill you." Her smile turned sarcastic. "The hunters don't like figuring out that some creatures consider _them_ prey."

She inspected her nails casually as she said, "I was wondering whether or not you'd be able to resist."

Shock hit me like a wave. "You _knew_ he was going to be there?" I screeched. "And you let me go in there, knowing that I might attack him?"

Ashanti shrugged. "Even if you had, it wouldn't have hurt him," she said dismissively. "You could feed on him for a hundred years and not even make him stumble."

"But you _know_ that I don't want to do that, _ever_, not even if it wouldn't hurt him!" I cried.

Ashanti's eyes met mine, and there was a strange look in them. "I know," she murmured, her voice oddly vulnerable. "I just think that – for your sake – you should get over it."

I didn't want to see this side of her. I didn't want to see her worry for me. I wanted to hate her for making me a monster, not realize that maybe, in her own way, she was just as messed up as I was. So I changed the subject. "How did you even know he was here?"

Ashanti seemed to realize what I was doing, and pulled back behind her walls, becoming aloof once again. "Because, unlike _some_ people," she said with an pointed, amused glance at me, "I didn't spend the night in my room, scowling at the ceiling. I ran around the forest, exploring, and I ran across vampire scents. I followed them, and found his house. The vampire and his family live near here, north of the Calawah River."

"Oh," I mused, lost in my thoughts about the strange boy who'd made me react in such a repulsing way. Then it hit me – "He and his_ family?_" I repeated, my voice a little higher in surprise.

Ashanti looked thoughtful. "Yes."

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. She just looked blankly ahead, deeply pensive. But I wanted to know what she was thinking. "What?" I asked.

Her eyes snapped back into focus. "I was just thinking about his family – I don't think that they're like others of their kind."

"Why not?"

"They -" she began, "There's ..... _seven_ of them."

I blinked in confusion. "So?"

She snorted. "I forgot that you know absolutely _nothing _about your world." I winced, hating that she could legitimately call me a part of the world of monsters and hunters. "Most vampires prefer to travel alone," she explained. "Some – mates, mostly – travel in pairs. A very, _very _few travel in groups of three. But the only ones who gather in large numbers are the armies, and even _they_ tear each other into pieces more often than they work together. Such a large, peaceful coven is almost unheard of. And I don't even think that I can _call_ them a coven," she continued, looking unusually baffled. "They don't seem to be together for practical, convenience-related purposes. They....." she struggled to put her thoughts into words. "They actually seem to..... _love_ each other."

I glared at her suspiciously. "How do you know all this if you just found where they live?"

Ashanti smiled sheepishly. "Well, I might have watched and listened to them for the rest of the night. I was curious," she said defensively when I gaped at her.

"So there's seven," I murmured. If just the one contained so much energy, I could only imagine how much seven of them would have..... I winced, thinking of the intense burning so much energy would inspire. And then I wondered out loud, "How did I _miss _seven of them all day? I only realized that the one was there when he sat down beside me, and then I could believe that I hadn't noticed..... how did I miss _seven?_"

Ashanti, who had been watching me, and therefore the school, knew the answer. "They weren't here all day," she explained. "They just came after lunch. And not all seven of them go to school – the lead male, Carlisle, works at a hospital, and his mate stays home most of the day."

I looked sharply at Ashanti. "He works at _a hospital?_" Hospitals meant blood. How did a vampire work around it all day and not snap?

Ashanti shook her head slowly. "I don't know how he does it," she whispered in awe. "Like I said, they're different from the others. I don't suppose you looked at the boy's eyes?" I clenched my jaw, shaking my head, and Ashanti chuckled – she knew what would have happened if I'd looked into his eyes. "Of course you didn't," she said wryly. "I guess that was a stupid question. But the whole family has the strangest eye color – they're _gold_."

I sighed. "Will you stop saying things in that tone – like what you say is really significant? I don't know how it's supposed to be in the first place, so the whole defining tone doesn't mean anything to me."

Ashanti glanced at me impatiently. "Vampires have _red_ eyes, Bella," she said slowly, like I was a stupid child.

I threw up my hands. "This is pointless!" I snapped. "This whole conversation has nothing to do with the real problem – like what I'm supposed to do now!"

Ashanti stretched. "I can't tell you what to do," she began.

"I wasn't _asking!_" I protested holtly. "I don't need your help."

"But you have three choices," Ashanti continued, as if I'd never opened my mouth. "Firstly, you can disappear now. Secondly, you can give up trying to be something you're not and feed so the energy the vampire has won't bother you." I hissed, but Ashanti kept talking. "Or," she said, her voice very soft, "you could do nothing. Don't hunt, go back to school, and hope that you're strong enough to resist." She turned around and started off into the forest. "Either way, it's your decision – you wouldn't listen to my advice anyway." She paused. "Oh, and, by the way – his name is Edward."

She vanished into the trees then, leaving me with jumbled thoughts, a perplexing problem, and the distinct impression that she had purposefully tried to confuse me.


	4. Unexpected

Disclaimer: I don't own twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.

Edward's Point of View

I'd only just arrived at school, and I was already bored. It had something to do with what I knew I'd be learning, which was nothing; I already knew anything the teachers might pull out of their lesson plans – but it also had to do with the entirely predictable nature of the thoughts around me. Today, all thoughts were not on the subjects the teachers taught, or even some dramatic gossip about someone's romantic life. Instead, they revolved fixedly around the new girl, Isabella Swan. Even the people who weren't in class with her were thinking about her – what type of music did she like? What was Phoenix like? Most of the male populace was thinking the same thing – _Does she have a boyfriend?_ I couldn't really see the draw – in their thoughts, Isabella, or Bella, as she preferred to be called, seemed just like the rest of the boring humans. Not different at all.

Although, the boys' memories of her did hold a little something strange – a pull, a draw, that made them want to be closer to her despite her slightly standoffish behavior. It was like she was a magnet and they were metal – hopelessly and inexplicably drawn. I pondered the odd sensation for a moment as I walked at a careful human pace to Biology, but quickly dismissed it. They were just children fascinated by a new toy.

I searched briefly for the thoughts in the science building, and blinked once in surprise – Bella was in the class, and was sitting in the seat next to mine. I sighed. She would not enjoy being my lab partner; no one liked being around my family for any amount of time. They didn't know that they feared us, but their sense of self-preservation was enough to keep them away. Then a smirk curved up the corners of my mouth – Mike Newton was once again proving himself to be a complete idiot by spewing a stream of small-talk at Bella, who was sitting with her shoulders hunched and her head down, obviously wishing that he would leave her alone.

I entered the building, shaking the water droplets from the light drizzle out of my hair, and continued down the hall toward the classroom. The door was open – I slipped inside without calling too much attention to myself. A few people glanced up, but then their attention returned to whatever they'd been doing. Their thoughts all held the same disinterested tone – it was just one of the Cullens. My family preferred that. The less people watched us, the less chance there was for exposure.

I turned toward the lab table I would be sharing with Bella and focused on her, trying to get a read on her thoughts before I sat down – it was always better to have a knowledge of how a person thought before I had to talk to him or her. I focused..... then frowned and focused harder. Nothing. Not a whisper. Unease stirred in my stomach – this had never happened before. No one had ever been silent like this – it was as though she wasn't thinking at all. But Mike was still chattering at Bella like a fool. The set of her shoulders was stiff – annoyed, and shy all at the same time, and she had let her long dark hair flow over her shoulder, hiding her face. She was obviously feeling uncomfortable – surely she had to be thinking _something_. But if she was, I couldn't hear it. I frowned slightly. This was incredibly frustrating – _what was she thinking?!_ Why couldn't I hear her?

Not even a second had passed since I'd walked through the door. I kept walking automatically, pausing just behind Mike – he was between me and my seat, and needed to move before I could get to the chair. I felt a flicker of irritation – I'd made noise as I'd walked up behind him, and I knew that he'd heard me, but he still wasn't moving. I wanted to get closer to Bella – maybe the closer proximity would help me read her mind..... not that I'd ever needed to do that before. And it wasn't as though I'd find anything worth hearing – she was just another human, another featureless sheep in the herd. Whatever she was thinking, I'd probably hear it before. But still.....

And Mike was still standing there, practically harassing Bella with his babble. "Excuse me, Mike," I said, having to work at making myself sound polite.

Mike turned to face me, and at the exact same time, Bella Swan's breath hissed softly in, and she went rigid in her seat. Her heart beat faster, and her hands clenched into white knuckled fists.

My eyes widened slightly in surprise as Mike walked dejectedly back to his seat and I sat down beside her. How could I have made her angry? I hadn't even spoken to her yet! Had my initial assumptions about her annoyance with Mike Newton been wrong? Had she been interested in him? Was she angry with me for cutting their conversation short? Strange – she hadn't _seemed_ to be interested in Mike. And even if she had been, her reaction was still a little off – my experience told me that disappointment and annoyance, not outright fury, were the appropriate emotions. Why was she so different? Were all humans this difficult to read? Perhaps I wasn't as intuitive as I'd thought – perhaps I relied too much on my insight.

I obviously needed to smooth things over. I turned to her, intending to say something generic and polite – _Hello, my name is Edward Cullen_. That was the plan. I started to inhale to speak.

And her scent slammed into me with the force of a nuclear bomb. The girl's anger at me was forgotten. Her unreachable thoughts were forgotten, as was her strange reaction to me. Her scent pervaded every part of my mind, violently shoving everything else out. I felt it in my body as well – the scorching burn that raced up and down my throat, the dry, fiery ache that filled my empty veins, the dessicated sensation in my mouth. I forgot my family, and what I would do to them. I forgot that the girl had a family who would miss her. I forgot that I had devoted myself to being good.

Only one reality existed – I was a vampire, and she had the sweetest blood I'd ever encountered.

Her scent was so strong, so amazing, that it almost propelled me out of my seat and toward her throat. I tensed, preparing my body for the action. There was no thought of resistance in my mind.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Carlisle's face appeared in my mind, his expression sad, yet filled with such a devastating kindness and understanding that was somehow worse than censure and anger. It was an expression I'd only seen on his face once – the day I'd told him that I had decided to live like the rest of our kind, that I was leaving. That period of darkness had been so filled with death and depression. I had hurt Carlisle and Esme so badly, for no reason except my own selfishness and desires.

And I was about to do it again. And this time, I wouldn't only be affecting Carlisle and Esme, but the rest of my family as well – Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper. I would force them to uproot themselves and relocate.

And I would become even more of a monster than I already was. Another face appeared beside Carlisle's in my mind – my face, from my rebellious period. A monster's face – hard, cynical, and cold, with eyes as red as a demon's. It was the face that I had worked to bury, the face that haunted me and represented everything I didn't want to be. I would become him again.

The thought hurt almost as much as the intense burning. I didn't want to be a demon, a devil, a monster! I didn't want to hurt my mother and father! I wanted to _deserve_ the love they gave so freely, even though I knew I never could. I didn't want to kill this girl.

I _wouldn't_ do it – I _refused._ She couldn't make me, no matter how much I burned.

I sharply pushed the air out of my lungs and held my breath. Relief came instantly, but it was incomplete – I could still hear her heartbeat, could still feel the shuddering waves of body heat that she threw off, and the memory of her smell remained in my mind. I could taste it on the back of my tongue.

But I couldn't think of the taste. Desperately, I clung to my reason, my hatred for the monster I was, hoping beyond hope that would be enough.

What _was _this girl?! Why did she have to be so ridiculously, appallingly _decadent?_ Why did she have to be here, _now?_ Why did she have to be in _this_ tiny town, in_ this_ school, in _this_ class? What were the _odds_ of choosing the exact state, town, and school, of being assigned the seat next to one of the only vampires on earth that interacted with humans? It couldn't be a coincidence. Maybe she was a punishment – the thing the monster wanted most, _after_ I had given up self-gratification. Maybe she had been sent by fate to burn me. It was as much as I deserved. But that knowledge didn't keep me from hating the slender, terribly appealing girl beside me.

Even as I glared furiously at her, I knew that those thoughts were foolish and unfair. It wasn't her fault, after all. What I really hated was myself, the monster in me that wanted to grip those slight shoulders, turn her toward me and pull her forward, crush her throat against my teeth, drink the warm, thick, pulsing – my hands gripped the edge of the lab table so hard my fingers left an imprint on the wood. I only had to resist for an hour – thinking about what she would _taste_ like was not going to help anything. Just an hour.

And it was the longest hour of my existence. I was immortal – surely the sixty minutes, the three thousand six hundred seconds, shouldn't feel longer than the one hundred and ten years that I'd been alive. And yet, they did. Of course, I had never experienced such an intolerable burning before – it was driving me insane. The pain was so intense, like fire was crawling up my throat. It would be so easy to quench it – the girl was weak, and wouldn't be able to fight me off. And the other children, the teacher – they were weak, too. And they would be witnesses of my heinous act; they would have to die, as well.

My mind had no trouble with the math. If I couldn't control the thirst that raged in my parched throat, then I would have to kill twenty innocent people. Never, not even in my darker days, had I committed such an atrocity. I would truly be a monster. _You're _already_ a monster_, the thirst-maddened part of me snarled. _You won't change that status if you kill them. Just let go – stop trying to be something you're not. You _want _her!_

I swallowed back the venom that pooled in my mouth. The monster didn't need to remind me how much I wanted her – even if I lived until the world ended, I would never forget the exquisite burning I was enduring in this moment. Yes, I wanted her. But I'd been denying my body what it wanted for years – this was no time to stop.

At last, just when I thought that I couldn't sit there for another second, the bell rang. Before it finished, I was out of the classroom and darting down the hall.

But I could feel a familiar presence at my back. Her heartbeat was almost right behind me. For one horrible second, horror and want stabbed into my gut – was she _following_ me? Did she have a death wish? I didn't know if I could resist if she stopped me, if she demanded and explanation for my behavior and her breath swirled across my face.....

But then she veered off, and I heard her footsteps fade as she nearly ran toward the opposite end of the parking lot, the area the farthest away from my current destination – my car.

I gasped the clean, wet air outside as though I'd been suffocating. My hands didn't shake as I unlocked my Volvo and opened the driver's side door, but, if I had been a human, they would have been. I slammed the door behind me, breathing in the scents of my siblings to further purge my lungs of that _scent_.....

I ground my teeth and rested my forehead against the steering wheel. _Keep it together_, I ordered myself furiously. Quickly, I jabbed the power button on the car's radio, and the CD I'd been listening to on the drive to school started playing again. It was a CD that usually calmed me down, but it did little to ease the tension in entire body now. I was as rigid and unmovable as rock. And I had a feeling that I would stay that way until I was far, far away from the girl and the temptation her blood presented.

_Far away_. My thoughts circled around the two little words, and I was startled to find the conclusion that my subconscious had drawn. Forks was a small town – the run to her house couldn't take more than five minutes, at the most. Knowing that she – and her blood – was so close to me would be a constant, nagging thought, always pulling me toward her, toward the monster I didn't want to be. I feared that I couldn't be near her without putting her and my family at risk – without succumbing. I shuddered at the thought, and became even more disgusted with myself, for the shiver had been not only one of repulsion, but one of desire. I _could not_ be near the Swan girl.

The car doors opened, and my family climbed into my car. I jerked; I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't heard them coming. In the rear view mirror, I could see Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper's startled expressions. I only heard their mental confusion for a moment before Alice claimed my attention.

"_Why_ are you _leaving?_" she demanded, her small arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "Do you have _any_ idea how upset Esme will be? And Carlisle, too! What are you _thinking?_"

I wavered. Perhaps..... if I didn't allow myself to be alone often, and rearranged my classes.....

And, in my peripheral vision I was a flicker of motion at the other end of the parking lot. I glanced away from Alice to see what it was – and froze.

Bella, looking cautiously around her to see if anyone was watching, slid swiftly out from between the trees and made her way toward an antiquated red truck, digging into her pocket and bringing out a key. She was far away from me, but even at this distance, I could see her pulse throbbing in her throat, could remember how appetizing she smelled. The monster in me reared his head again. Most of the humans were gone – the teachers and faculty that remained were inside, and wouldn't be able to see what was about to happen.

My hand reached for the door handle on its own power – I never told it to move. I saw the violent vision that filled Alice's mind, and I heard her gasp, but I paid no attention. I was hunting.

"_NO!_" Alice's shriek was background noise, unimportant. The hand that grasped a fistful of my hair and yanked me away from the door, away from Bella, however, was not. I snarled sharply, my eyes never leaving Bella, a predator that felt its prey was being taken. "_Edward, what are you doing?_" she screeched. "_Jasper!_"

A wave of calm, almost lethargy, swept through me, and at the exact same time Bella – who must have heard Alice's screams – whipped her head around to look at us with wide, startled eyes

Eyes that, by chance, just so happened to lock with mine. Her face changed abruptly, turning severe and oddly inviting at the same time. But I only saw these changes with the lesser part of my mind. Most of my concentration was focused on those eyes, those, large, warm, doe eyes that called to me, beckoned me closer, promised me anything and everything I wanted..... My body relaxed, and I reached again for the door handle, this time intending to approach her calmly and...... I didn't know what I would do when I got there yet. All I knew was that I needed to be closer to her.

The car door swung open, and I tried to get out, but something was holding me back. I struggled against it absentmindedly, swatting at the restraints half-heartedly. I felt hazy, muddled, blissfully content and happy – a small part of my mind compared the feeling to that of a human under the influence of alcohol or drugs, but it wasn't like that, either – it was entirely foreign and indescribable.

Then a sharp, stinging something cracked across my face. The blow made my head snap around, breaking my eye contact with Bella, and the pain cut through the fog in my mind like a knife. Clarity rushed back to me – and I knew that something was wrong.

Aware of my surroundings again, I realized that I was half-way out of the car with Emmett leaning around the driver's seat and holding me down. It must have looked comical, but, from a glimpse of Bella's face through Rosalie's alarmed mind, Bella appeared furious.

"He's coming around!" Jasper growled. He was also gripping me from the back seat. "_Drive!_"

Alice obeyed immediately, reaching her leg over the console from where she sat in the passenger's seat, and slamming down the gas pedal, grabbing the steering wheel in the same second.

The tires squealed against the asphalt, and, with Alice steering, the Volvo launched forward and onto the highway with me still half-out of the car. I pulled myself back in effortlessly, slamming the door closed behind me. I didn't try to take the steering wheel form Alice, and neither did she offer control of the car.

I was frozen, in shock. What had that been? How had Bella, a human girl, done that? Or was she human at all?

"I think you might have been right before," Alice said tightly. "Maybe it _would_ be best if you left for a while."

I could think of no argument against that observation.


	5. This Story Is Up For Adoption

**I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON, AND I AM _SO SORRY_!**

This is not a new chapter. Again, sorry. Obviously, nothing new is happening from me with this story. I hadn't even logged on to FanFiction in months, but when I did, I read a review urging me to put Burn For You up for adoption. Since I'm not going to be able to finish it, I've decided to take that advice.

BURN FOR YOU IS OFFICIALLY UP FOR ADOPTION!

The only problem is that I have no idea how one adopts a story or how an author gives it away, so whoever wants it is going to have to educate me.

Thank you so much!

Sincerely,

JasperIsAManlyMan


	6. This Story Has Been Adopted

** Author's Note: _Burn For You_ has now been adopted by Hearts In Strangeness. On my profile, you can find a link to Hearts In Strangeness's profile. I don't know when H.I.S. (Forgive the acronym; it's the typing equivalent of a mouth-full. Not that I can talk, considering _my _name... Anyway) will update, but it is now officially out of my hands, folks! Thank you for sticking with me, and have a good day!**


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